


Make (Love) War

by burymeinziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Infidelity, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:04:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeinziam/pseuds/burymeinziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Zayn and Liam get a little lost but find their way back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s one of those hazy Friday nights in the middle of summer where the air is hot and humid and makes Zayn feel as though he could melt which only irritates him more because Liam is late.

He’s sitting on his porch, his legs spread wide over the steps in a lame attempt to disperse his body heat with a cigarette handing loosely between his fingers curling silky wisps of smoke into the air. Zayn can hear the constant chirps of crickets, the sound of a dog barking in somebody’s backyard, the obnoxious hoots and hollers of drunken teenagers roaming the streets. Zayn can hear everything, really, everything except the one sound he wants to hear which is that of Liam’s car pulling up to the curb in front of his house.

When he checks his watch, Zayn realizes it’s been twenty-five minutes.

Tapping the excess ash off of the end of his cigarette, Zayn lets out what could either be classified as a scoff or a sigh or perhaps even a little bit of both. He never does this; this sitting outside on the porch smoking in the middle of the night. Usually, Zayn has a life; something to do, or something to pretend to do to keep his mind off of the one person he doesn't want to waste time thinking about, but tonight is different and when he looks down at his watch again to see that thirty minutes have now passed he knows it’s true.

“Prick,” Zayn mutters under his breath, tapping his cigarette again and glancing down at the minuscule pieces of ash sprinkling down onto the concrete of his front porch. Looking down at his cigarette, Zayn watches the paper inch downward, leaving a long path of grey ash in its wake as the gravelly sound of a car lurking to a stop in his driveway files into his ears. Zayn doesn't move, just keeps his eyes trained to the burning stick between his fingers. He doesn't want to give Liam the satisfaction.

“You coming?” Liam calls out of the window on the driver’s side of the car.

Zayn sighs, tossing his cigarette to the ground and putting it out with the toe of his boot.

There’s an odd smell in the car. It’s nice, but different and unfamiliar and it doesn't fully get to him until Zayn closes the passenger side door and rolls the window halfway up so it doesn't get too cold. With the green, mellow lights of the buttons on the radio illuminating Liam’s face, Zayn watches as he pulls out of the driveway and onto the main road.

“Are you wearing cologne?” Zayn asks, his voice shattering the quiet of the car. Conversation used to come easy, but now everything feels tense and awkward. Zayn watches as Liam keeps his eyes on the road, observing everything from the way he holds the steering wheel with one hand to the way his hair has grown since he’d shaved it all off. Zayn makes note of the way Liam’s thin, cotton T-shirt clings to his body and tries not to get lost in the way his arm flexes when he adjusts his grip on the wheel.

“Uh, yeah,” Liam answers lowly. “A little.”

Zayn doesn't say anything about how he finds the idea of Liam spraying himself down with cologne in his apartment endearing. He doesn't mention how good Liam looks after three months of little to no contact with one another. Zayn doesn't tell Liam how much he’s missed him or how much more he’s been smoking since Liam hasn't been there to make him cut down. Zayn doesn't say any of these things because he doesn't want to give Liam the satisfaction; because he’s bitter and childish and it hurts to want someone so badly.

“You smell like a dead deer,” he scoffs, his face scrunching up in disgust.

Liam huffs out a breath of laughter as his lips curve up into an easy smile because he knows Zayn so well. “Thanks.”  
  
Zayn smirks, turning his attention toward the window as he watches the lights of the passing buildings shine down and through the glass, flinging narrow rectangles of light across their faces. “No problem.”

The car falls silent again and Zayn wonders whether or not he should turn on the radio and if that would even be okay. He doesn't know what the protocol of hanging out with his ex-boyfriend entails. Zayn doesn't know if they should be talking and, if talking is permitted, what they should be talking about; which topics are safe and which ones are off limits. Zayn doesn't know if he’s allowed to look at Liam and still think he’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen or if he lost that right when he let Liam walk out the door all those months ago. 

Zayn finally settles for annoyance because being friendly and civil makes him feel a little more uncomfortable than he’d like. “Where are we even going?” He asks.

“Out,” Liam answers simply causing Zayn to look over at him with an all too familiar scowl because Liam is doing this on purpose. He knows Zayn like the back of his hand. He knows how much Zayn hates simple, one word, answers that divulge no real information and he knows Liam is only doing this to get a rise out of him.

“Out,” Zayn repeats evenly, tilting his head to the side and crossing his arms over his chest. He watches Liam’s face and sees the amused smile on his lips and even though he still thinks Liam is gorgeous beyond reason Zayn also hates him just as much.

Sort of.

Not really.

He really doesn't know.

“Are you sure that your boyfriend is going to be okay with that?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Zayn is sure that he’s crossed the line because he isn't even supposed to really know about this new kid Liam is seeing. Harry had simply mentioned it in passing before clamping a hand over his mouth and begging Zayn not to say anything because Liam wanted to keep things quiet and Zayn isn't even supposed to know.

At first Zayn was a little hurt because they hadn't even been broken up for that long and here Liam was moving on with some cute brunette he’d met at a Starbucks one day on his way to work. His name is Jason and he’s a barista and he plays the guitar and sings lead vocals in some shitty pop punk band he started with a few of his friends back in grade school.

At least that’s what Harry and a few hours of shameful Facebook stalking told him.

Zayn was hurt and he felt silly because he didn't even really have the right to be; not really. Harry had said something about Zayn not being able to help the way he felt when he noticed the way Zayn was avoiding eye contact and the way he’d pressed his lips into a thin line to keep himself from crying, but it wasn't so easy. Liam had the right to see other people. Liam had the right to get over him and Zayn was stupid to think sitting around wallowing in self-pity and longing for a boy who didn't work out was a good way to spend his time.

And now Zayn was being bitter and petty and he kind of hated himself for it.

“Don’t,” Liam said, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“Don’t what” Zayn responds evenly and he knows he’s being a bit of a dick but Liam was the one who got a new boyfriend and showed up late and did that thing with the one word answers. It was Liam who hashed up old feelings by asking Zayn to hang out tonight.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Liam says quietly but it’s more like he’s talking to himself than he is to Zayn. “We’re not doing anything.”

“Sure.”

Zayn turns back to the window and watches more buildings pass them by. He watches teenagers that should probably be back in the houses hold casual conversations as they wander the streets and he wonders what their live are and if they’re any better than his own

“My place,” Liam says, breaking the short lived silence that had fallen over them, then looks toward Zayn. “He’s not home.”

Zayn can feel Liam’s eyes on him, probably trying to gauge his reaction if Zayn still knows Liam as well as he thinks he does, as he digs into the pocket of his jeans for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lights one up and takes a drag before rolling down the window and blowing smoke into the wind because he knows Liam hates the smell.

When Liam gets the idea that Zayn doesn't have much else to say on the topic he sighs and focuses on the road, Zayn inhaling smoke and exhaling out the window and Liam nervously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Zayn leans forward in his seat, eyes scanning the scene around him, when Liam pulls into the lot of a high rise apartment building Liam's parents put him up in. Zayn sinks back into his seat, listening to the sound of keys turning and being pulled out of the ignition before he gets the idea that Liam has gone still as well.

“So… why did you – why here?” Zayn asks, his tone slightly irritated because Liam should know better. He should know better than to bring Zayn here because they have history and this isn't exactly neutral ground. Zayn can think of at least ten places off the top of his head that they've had sex in this place and that’s not even including the inside of Liam’s apartment. The doorman knows his name and never fails to smile and ask about his day whenever Zayn walks into the lobby.

“I’m moving.” Liam says, his voice ripping through the silence.

Zayn can feel Liam’s eyes boring holes into his skin as he focuses his attention on the glove compartment, his cigarette burning down closer and closer toward his fingers.

“Moving,” he repeats lowly, lifting his head to look at Liam. Their eyes meet for a brief moment before Liam stares out the windshield.

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask where?”

“Los Angeles.”

The second the answer leaves Liam’s mouth Zayn can feel his heart stop as his chest grows tight. His breath catches in his throat as he hastily tosses his cigarette out the window and runs a hand through his hair. “That’s in California.”

“Yeah…”

“That’s like… that’s the other side of the world, Li.”

Liam nods. “Yeah; Jason’s band got signed by this label in LA and they’re going out there to record and he… he wants me to go with him.”

When Zayn doesn't say anything right away Liam twists in his seat to get a better look at his face. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

And Zayn could punch Liam because who is he to do this? Who is he to show up at Zayn’s house thirty minutes late just so he can drag him back to his pretty high rise apartment that he probably shares with his new barista boyfriend who apparently just got signed to some hip LA record label just so he can say goodbye?

“You want to say goodbye,” Zayn begins lowly. “You brought me here just so you could say goodbye?”

Liam’s eyes are guilty and a little bit sad as he shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah. I mean… I thought we could hang out and, I don’t know, talk for a bit like old times. You were my best friend, you know? And I… I don’t know, Zayn. I just wanted to see you before I left, okay?”

Zayn’s face is stony and expressionless as he stares straight ahead through the slightly foggy glass of the windshield. His brain feels scrambled with thoughts of being scared and lost and alone. Liam was his first in every aspect of the word. He was the first friend Zayn felt he could truly trust, his first real kiss and his first actual boyfriend. This was Liam; the only person Zayn could say he ever felt he couldn't live without.

And here he was following his new, smarter, better, talented and trendy barista boyfriend to the other side of the world to pursue bigger and better dreams.

“Zayn,” Liam says and his voice is desperate like he needs this. He needs Zayn to do this for him; to grant him this one favor before he closes the door on him for good and even though he wants to (and he desperately wants to) Zayn can’t bring himself to say no.

“Fine.” Zayn’s voice is clipped and even. “Whatever.”

They wordlessly climb out of the car and Liam can latterly feel the tension humming through Zayn’s body as the older boy follows him through the parking lot and into the lobby. Inside, the doorman, Bobby, smiles upon seeing the pair of them and offers a friendly hello.

“Long time no see, Zayn,” he says. “How have you been?”

When Liam turns back to look at Zayn he can see how tight his smile is; the way his shoulders tense and his jaw sets. “Fine,” Zayn answers, blinking a few times and looking down to the floor.

Bobby’s eyes shift from one boy to the other and back again before he nods in response. “Good.”

Zayn’s eyes flick up to meet the doorman’s and he smiles sadly before saying it was good to see him again and brushing past Liam to get to the elevator, the younger of the pair rushing to catch up with him. When the doors open Zayn steps inside and, on instinct, he reaches forward and presses the button that will take him to the fourth floor. They’re quiet as the door shuts and it’s the kind of silence Zayn has grown to hate. It’s the quiet that always follows a nasty fight that leads to an ugly break up. The same exasperation and frustration that leads to a newer and better boyfriend that whisks sweet, charming young men to sunny beaches and fancy recording studios.

When the elevator dings and the doors open Liam takes a hesitant step into the hallway and looks back to Zayn. Zayn wants to press the button near the doors that will take him back to the lobby. He wants to call a cab or Harry or maybe even taking his chances on walking home because standing in the elevator looking at Liam with his big, brown eyes so filled with hope and an inkling of desperation is a little too much. It reminds Zayn of the first time they’d met at the pub three years ago back when Zayn was still writing pretentious love songs and poems about how love was overrated. But then Harry met Niall who knew Liam and they all wound up at the pub one night and Liam had the clearest brown eyes Zayn had ever seen and, before he knew it, Zayn was in love.

And Liam must have thought Zayn was perfect too because he invited him back to his apartment and when he stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway – the same way he had just now – he looked at Zayn with the same brown eyes Zayn’s looking into now. The only difference is now Zayn feels naked and raw and like Liam is asking for more than Zayn is able to give and he’s scared because Liam knows him too well and it’s almost like he’s taking advantage.

When Zayn doesn’t follow him right away and the elevator doors begin to close Liam steps forward, slapping his hand against them causing the doors to open again. “Please,” he whispers and his voice is desperate and begging and Zayn sighs because he can’t say no.

The walk to Liam’s apartment is tense and quiet and once their inside Zayn instinctively toes off his shoes and makes his way to the old leather couch he and Liam had picked up two years ago just before he’d moved in. Liam tries to hide the smile tugging at his lips at how easily Zayn had fallen back into old routine but fails as he crosses the room and takes a seat on the end opposite of where Zayn had settled in.

Zayn’s eyes shift uncomfortably around the apartment taking in just how little has changed since he’d last been inside. The couch is still just as soft, Liam’s bookshelf of DVDs is still an unorganized mess, and he still carelessly tosses his keys onto the small end table near the front door. Everything is pretty much the same.

Aside from the hoodie tossed over one of the chairs in the dining room that looks a size too small to be Liam’s.

And the box of Cocoa Pebbles on the kitchen counter that Zayn knows doesn't belong to Liam because he hates chocolate cereals.

“My flight leaves tomorrow morning,” Liam says quietly, breaking the silence.

Zayn’s chest tightens at the words and all of the small odds and ends scattered around the apartment that seem to make themselves more and more apparent as time wears on. He wonders if Harry had known about this and just hadn't said anything. He wonders if Liam had waited so long to say something just to spite him or if he really is as broken up about everything as he seems to be.

“Huh,” Zayn huffs in reply leaning forward against his knees and staring down at his socks. He doesn’t know which words are the right words. He wants to yell at Liam; call him an asshole for moving on and waiting until the last minute to reveal that he was leaving the country. He wants to ask what happened to “forever” and “no matter what”. Zayn wants to tell him that he should have waited; that Liam should know that sometimes his thoughts and his feelings don’t quite match up and he loses his way and doesn't know how to set things right. Liam should know that Zayn has a tendency to say the wrong things and act irrationally and that’s all their break up really was. It was just Zayn losing his way and not knowing what to do. It was him feeling insecure and lost and ashamed and he freaked out because, sometimes, that's just what he does. Liam should have known he would eventually come back to him.

Most of all, Zayn wants to say that he’s sorry for ever doubting Liam in the first place.

“It’ll be easier this way, I think,” Liam says and when Zayn looks up Liam’s eyes aren’t really focused on anything and his hands are shaking and he knows Liam is about to start rambling because that’s what Liam does when he’s scared and nervous. “I mean, we can find a place somewhere -- my parents will probably rent something out because, well... you know how they are  -- and I’ll get a job and Jason will work on the album and it’ll be so much better than trying to do things long distance and –”

“Why are you telling me this?” Zayn asks not even trying to mask the obvious irritation in his voice.

“What?” Liam asks.

“You call me up and say you want to catch up. You bring me to your apartment and tell me you’re following your boyfriend to California and you just wanted to say goodbye. And then we get here and you just – what do you want from me, Liam?”

Liam sighs and drags a hand over his face as he shrugs his shoulders, defeated. “I don’t know,” he answers, his voice breaking. It almost makes Zayn want to reach out and place a comforting hand on his back, maybe pull him close and kiss his hair and tell him everything is okay; it doesn't really matter anymore.

But it isn't.

And it does.

“Do you love him?”

Liam’s head jerks up at the question, his eyebrows knitting together as he curiously eyes Zayn from his place on the couch. “What?”

Zayn draws in a deep breath, closes his eyes, exhales. “Jason,” he says. “Do you love Jason?”

Liam opens his mouth, closes it, then runs a hand over his hair. “Of—of course I love him. I wouldn't be packing up my whole life and moving to the other side of the world if I didn't.”

Zayn frowns because he’s looking at Liam and he knows it’s a lie. “Are you sure?” He asks without thinking because he has a sinking feeling that this is just Liam trying to prove something to himself or to Zayn or to the world; like he isn't caught somewhere between wanting to be in love with Jason and not quite being over something that never quite ended in the first place.

Liam scoffs. “Of course I’m sure.”

“Well, how do you even know?” Zayn asks, his voice boarding on desperate now because he doesn't understand. He does get how Liam could just leave everything behind for some hipster barista he’s been dating for less than six months. “You hardly know the guy, Liam.”

“Zayn,” Liam begins quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t even  _know_ , him,” Zayn drives on, his voice picking up in volume.

“Zayn, please,” Liam tries again. His voice is trembling now, the guilt coming back to him just as he knew it would.

“You’re just doing this to prove something to yourself. You just want to prove to yourself that us breaking up was the right thing and that’s probably the whole reason you asked me over here too, isn't it? You wanted to prove that we were done and that there’s nothing there anymore and this cool new barista kid is the one and following him to the other side of the world is a—”

“Zayn just shut up!” Liam shouts, his voice echoing off the walls of the apartment.

Zayn clamps his mouth shut, immediately feeling guilt for his small outburst. He watches as Liam closes his eyes, his face scrunching up as he rubs at his temples, draws in short breaths of air. “I’m moving to LA because I love him,” Liam says but his voice is still exhausted and laced with guilt.

Zayn sinks back into the couch a shaky breath of air he didn't know he’d been holding slipping past his lips.

“And I love you too,” Liam continues, causing Zayn to look back up at him oddly. “I love both of you… it’s just… I’m with him now.”

When Liam looks back at Zayn he’s almost relieved to see the blank expression on his ex-boyfriend’s face instead of the angry, hurt expression he’d been greeted with before. It’s only blank as Zayn stares down at the coffee table and a few of the books scattered across the top. But then Zayn’s lips curl up and he’s kind of smiling and then his eyes brighten up a little and he’s laughing quietly to himself.

“What?” Liam questions lowly. He watches as Zayn’s smile grows wider as he starts laughing a little harder, his head shaking from side to side. “ Seriously, Zayn. What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” Zayn replies simply, waving off Liam’s curiosity. “It’s just… do you ...?”  His voice trails off, his expression beginning to recede back into the blank one he’d been wearing moments earlier.

“What?” Liam presses.

Zayn sighs, his smile once again tugging at his lips. “Do you remember that time… we were at your parent’s…” Zayn doesn't finish his sentence, but he’s really grinning now and his smile only grows wider when he can see that the light bulb had gone off in Liam’s head.

“Christmas… in the basement… we were supposed to be looking for decorations.”

“And then your mom walked in on us,” Zayn finishes and the pair of them are unable to control themselves as the laughter takes complete control of their bodies, causing them to hunch over on the couch.

“What we were doing anyways?” Liam asks, trying to remember a little more about what had happened down in his parent’s basement two years earlier. “We were just making out right?”

Zayn can feel his cheeks grow a little warm at the memory. He remembers exactly what had happened. It had started out with a few innocent kisses, which turned into something a little more, which had resulted in Liam on his knees with Zayn’s cock buried deep inside of his mouth just as his mother had come down to see what was taking them so long.

“Well… we were kissing, yeah,” Zayn says carefully.

“Really…” Liam replies, leaning forward against his knees, eyeing Zayn curiously. “And then what?”

Zayn sits up on the couch. If he knows Liam as well as he thinks he does, this is Liam flirting and sending signals. This is Liam giving in and telling Zayn that he wants more than he’s supposed to – or even deserves – to have.

“Well,” he begins, scooting closer toward Liam on the couch because he figures that he doesn't really have anything to lose. If worse comes to worse Liam moves to California and Zayn doesn't have to suffer the embarrassment of running to him in the shops or out on the street. He stops when he’s a few inches from where Liam is seated on the couch.

“If I remember correctly, we started doing something like this…”

When his lips meet Liam’s Zayn feels electric and his body is humming and it feels natural and right and like nothing had ever really changed. Liam’s lips are still a little chapped because he’s always losing his chapstick, but they are also kind of soft in a way Zayn had never really felt with another person. For a few short moments Zayn feels as if he’d finally come home.

But then Liam is gasping and there are palms pressing flat against his chest, pushing him away. “Zayn!” Liam hisses, his eyes shocked and wide.

“Liam –”

“You can’t just – you can’t  _do_  that!”  Liam warns, but his voice is wavering and he’s looking at Zayn and he knows. He knows it’s pretty much over because Zayn can read him; Zayn knows him like the back of his hand.

“You don’t love him,” Zayn says quietly and he’s putting everything on the line now because it’s his only chance and he has nothing left to lose. “Not really. You wouldn't have brought me here if you did and you wouldn't be doubting yourself if you did.”

“Zayn—”

“Please,” Zayn interrupts and his voice is just as desperate as Liam’s had been when he was standing outside of the elevator.

And Liam cracks, looking down to his shoes and slowly nodding his head because it’s true. Zayn is right and it’s all true no matter how much he doesn't want to admit it to be. When he looks back up Zayn is looking at him and his face is hopeful and a little bit scared as Liam leans forward and presses a slow tentative kiss to Zayn’s lips.

Zayn sighs, the breath coming out in a slow rush of air ghosting over Liam’s face as he reaches up to cup his cheek. And Liam is sinking, falling into old, practiced behavior that feels so natural and easy and everything being with Zayn used to be. It’s as if everything has fallen back into place after so many months of feeling scrambled and not all the way right.

But then he remembers tearful accusations and Zayn dragging angry fingers through his hair as he spits out words of “wanting other people” and “never being good enough” and  “why are you even here if you want to be with her anyways”  and how hard it had been to walk away. He remembers feeling the ache in his heart just as often as he’d felt it swell and how being in love with Zayn was just as difficult as it was easy.

When Liam pulls away, their lips parting with a quiet pop, Zayn’s eyes are a little dazed and his lips are wet and just this shy of swollen and Liam thinks this boy is so pretty and if he were to die right now, he’d be perfectly content with this being the last thing he ever saw.

“He can’t know,” Liam says softly, his eyes never leaving Zayn’s.

Zayn nods, Liam just barely catching the flash of disappointment in his eyes but choosing to ignore it in fear of caving in completely, and drags his hand down from where it had been resting in Liam’s hair to the curve of his neck.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Just you and me; Nobody needs to know."


	2. Chapter 2

They aren’t really thinking so much as they’re reacquainting themselves when Zayn straddles Liam’s waist and grinds down as their mouths work together in a way that is dirty and messy and completely different from anything they’ve experienced together. Liam’s hands work under Zayn’s shirt, pushing the material upward in a silent request for its removal. When Zayn pulls back and raises his hands above his head, he’s smirking which causes Liam to blush and it’s almost too difficult for Zayn to ignore the sharp flash of pain in his chest because even if this is dirty and illicit and probably isn’t supposed to mean anything at all, underneath all the filth and the lying they are still Zayn and Liam. There’s nothing they can really do to change that.

When his shirt falls to the ground, Zayn can easily hear Liam’s breathing. He’s almost panting, inhaling and exhaling deep in his chest as his fingers drag down Zayn’s sides and grip at his waist just above the waistband of his jeans. For a moment they just look and Zayn studies the contours of Liam’s face, the fullness of his kiss swollen bottom lip, trying to commit everything to memory because he isn’t sure when he’s going to get to see it again.

But then Liam’s hands are working at the button and zip of Zayn’s jeans and he can’t help but to chuckle at how eager Liam is and the frustrated groan that escapes his mouth when the zipper gets caught.

“Hey,” Zayn says softly. His tone is playful as he removes his jeans with a minimal amount of effort and Liam only offers him a look of frustration because he knows Zayn is being a little patronizing. “We have all night, Li. No need to rush.”

Liam is about to protest, say something about Jason maybe coming back later but he isn’t sure when, but the words haven’t even begun to work their way out of his head when Liam feels fingers digging into his scalp and lips dragging across his forehead, kissing his hair and his ears and there’s a voice whispering promises that are making his aching erection all the more unbearable.

“C’mon, Zayn,” Liam groans, taking hold of Zayn’s hips before thrusting his own up to create some sort of friction. “Just get on with it, yeah?”

Zayn only nods, pressing his lips to Liam’s as his hand reaches down to make quick work of Liam’s jeans. He can hear the smug chuckle in the back of Zayn’s throat when he climbs off of Liam’s lap so he can slide his jeans down his legs and he feels an urge to tell Zayn to fuck off but he stops himself because this is all becoming too normal. Liam almost finds it unnerving how easily he and Zayn slipped back into their old behavioral patterns. All the laughter and the jokes and the way Zayn’s lips feel right against his own in a way that Jason’s never really have. It scares Liam because they haven’t really even done anything and Zayn has already broken him down and Liam feels naked and bare in a way that is way past clothing. When Zayn looks at him, Liam knows that he can see into his soul. Zayn sees pieces of Liam that even he hadn’t known were there and while that was fine before (Liam had even referred to it as beautiful on a few occasions) Liam isn’t sure if he wants that now.

But now Zayn is easing Liam back onto the couch and their bodies are lying flush together and Liam decides that it’s probably best to not bother with thinking at all. He can feel Zayn settle between his legs and then there are lips pressing back against his own and a hand wrapping tight around his cock and it’s a little too dry when it slides down and then back up to thumb at the head but it’s also just right all the same.

Liam’s breath catches in his throat when Zayn’s other hand travels south down his chest, fingers dragging through chest hair and catching over one of his nipples. Zayn chuckles upon feeling gasp into his mouth as he pulls back, their lips separating with a mildly lewd pop. Liam doesn’t have much time to think before Zayn’s lips are sliding down his jaw, trailing down to his neck, licking, nipping, and running his teeth over sensitive skin and his hand is still working over Liam’s cock his fist tightening and twisting on the upstroke just under the head and Liam is almost surprised that Zayn remembered how he liked it.

But then he really can’t be because this is Zayn. It always has been and it probably always will.

“Fuck,” Liam says upon a heavy exhale, throwing an arm over his eyes as Zayn shifts his position on the couch, settling between Liam’s thighs. There’s suddenly a wet heat wrapped around the head of his cock and fingers massaging his balls and Liam feels as though he’s going to come right then and there if Zayn doesn’t stop.

Zayn must sense this because a few moments later his mouth is gone and he’s resting his chin just below Liam’s belly button and he must be feeling pretty fucking smug because he’s still fondling Liam’s balls when he says “m’gonna fuck you.”

When the words leave his mouth they feel dirty, filthy even, but Zayn figures that’s what this is and it’s true. Zayn looks at Liam and he wants to fuck him. He wants to make him feel everything they’ve been missing. Zayn wants Liam to remember what they were, to become reacquainted with that level of closeness they were only able to achieve when their bodies were pressed flush together and Zayn felt as though Liam were taking the breath straight from his lungs.

Liam only nods in agreement before Zayn is nipping at the skin around his bellybutton and climbing off of the couch to grab the lube and condoms from Liam’s bedroom.

Zayn’s fingers feel like revisiting an old friend after months and months of little to no contact. While Liam expected to tense up upon the intrusion since he hasn’t really bottomed much since he and Zayn broke up, instead his body sort of relaxes at the way Zayn pushes a finger past his rim and it’s as though all of the feelings and reasons for what’s happening being wrong dissipate and Liam is left with why this is right and why it feels good to have Zayn so close with his cheek resting against his stomach and his breath ghosting hot over his skin.

It’s one finger and then two and Zayn is kissing and nipping the skin of Liam’s thighs and his legs are quivering as Zayn messily recoats his fingers with more lube because he knows it’s been a while and Liam’s mind is racing because Zayn just knew without him having to say a single word.

It’s not long before Liam is feeling overwhelmed with three fingers stretching him open and Zayn licking the underside of his cock before lapping up the pre-cum leaking from the head, so he’s tangling his fingers into Zayn’s hair causing him to cease his movements to look up at Liam with a questioning gaze.

“Something wrong, Li?” Zayn asks, licking his lips and Liam closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath because this boy is positively sinful.

“Just… Just get on with it, yeah?” Liam replies breathlessly.

Zayn chuckles before silently nodding a head and pressing a kiss just above Liam’s bellybutton. It’s strangely intimate in a way everything else wasn’t because even though Zayn’s fingers and the close proximity of it all felt refreshing there was still an element of lust clouding it all over that made it easier for Liam to pass everything off as meaning nothing at all. Even though Liam’s level of ease was slightly unnerving he was still able to brush it off and tell himself it didn’t mean anything. This was just them saying goodbye in a way that didn’t involve tears and harsh words of betrayal and the childish game of placing the blame on one another when it really isn’t anyone’s fault at all.

But the soft brush of Zayn’s lips on his skin is sweet and when he looks back at him, Zayn’s holding a look in his eyes that Liam can’t quite place. Liam’s just about to push himself onto his elbows and ask Zayn if everything is alright, but before he can do it Zayn is turning around and tearing open the condom wrapper and when Liam sees his face again the look is gone.

When he feels the blunt head of Zayn’s cock breaching muscle and forcing its way inside Liam lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding. His eyes fall closed, his legs spreading wider on instinct and he almost relishes in the way Zayn’s fingernails are digging into his hips. Liam can hear the way Zayn’s breath is coming out in short huffs as he inches his way in, going slow because knows how Liam likes to ease into things. He knows how, sometimes, Liam needs to fuck slow and lazy and while this may not mean much and while they may not be “making love” this is probably one of those times.

Zayn is fully seated in Liam when he leans forward and rests his head against his shoulder. Liam can feel the breath rushing from his nose and the way his eyelashes flutter against his skin and it’s all so natural and familiar, he hardly notices when he reaches up to smooth down Zayn’s hair before he presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Go on,” Liam mumbles and Zayn nods.

It feels good, the push and the pull; the slow drag of Zayn’s cock pulsing inside of him. It’s not good in the same way that a blowjob makes Liam’s toes curl or in the way Liam’s body tingles all over and his mind goes kind of hazy when he’s fucking into Zayn. It’s not like that at all because this kind of burns and it sort of aches and isn’t so much good as it is fulfilling. He feels full and a little bit used when Zayn’s hips stutter slightly as Liam wraps his legs around Zayn’s waist and uses his heels to force him deeper.

“Fuck, Li,” Zayn groans into the skin of Liam’s shoulder as he fucks into him with a little more force.

Liam hums, feeling high and more than a little blissed out. He’s missed this. It’s nothing like the way sex is with Jason because Jason doesn’t really like to top and on the few times he had he was too careful and while Liam likes slow and lazy he doesn’t enjoy fragility. Jason doesn’t _know_ Liam the way Zayn does. He doesn’t understand that when Liam sort of whines in the back of throat it means “a little harder; right there”, but Zayn does.

Zayn also knows that Liam likes to wake up in the morning to finger shaped bruises on his hips and subtle, barely there bite marks on his shoulders.

And when Liam’s head lolls to the side and his mouth falls open in a near silent gasp because Zayn hits him just right in that one spot that makes his vision go blurry he knows this is right because it’s Zayn. He knows that while their relationship may have never been perfect and they were hardly ever on the same page because Zayn didn’t really know how to speak and sometimes Liam had trouble listening, they did know how to do this. Zayn knew how to fill Liam up and make him feel whole, and not just in the physical sense. He knew how to pull Liam close and lift him up and with Zayn’s face buried in the crook of Liam’s neck and their bodies were pressed so closely together it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began, Liam knew there was a god because he could literally _feel_ it.

It’s in the way Zayn knows that he’s close and reaches a hand between them to jerk Liam off with a fist that’s just this shy of too tight, but exactly what Liam needs all the same. It’s too much and not enough because even though his body has almost gone completely numb Liam is still high off of the idea of Zayn filling him up and the fact that they are as close as two people can ever get and that’s something beautiful; poetic even, if Liam really thinks about it.

Liam pries his eyes open to look at Zayn, head thrown back, jaw slack, his collar bones becoming even more prominent than usual due to the light sheen of sweat covering his body. Liam listens to the harsh pants and the soft sighs and the near-animalistic grunts forcing their way up Zayn’s throat and spilling past lips that Liam could kiss for hours without growing tired and he knows there’s a god because it’s the only way to explain something so beautiful. Looking at Zayn like this, so raw and uninhibited, is almost surreal. Liam has a hard time believing he was once able to say this boy was his, that he loved Zayn and for some reason Zayn decided to love him back, and he has an even harder time believing he let him go.

And then Liam’s chest feels tight and his stomach does too and before he knows his back is arching up off of the couch and he’s coming over his stomach and Zayn’s fist. Liam’s body aches through it and he can feel Zayn pounding into him, the pace becoming a little erratic before his hips stutter and Zayn comes with a low guttural moan. Zayn’s body goes slack before he collapses on top of Liam, his chest heaving as he tiredly lifts his head to grin up at Liam.

“Hi,” he says.

Liam chuckles because this shouldn’t be so easy. This shouldn’t feel normal. He has a boyfriend and a plane ticket for California. Liam shouldn’t be lying naked on his couch with his ex enjoying post sex giggles.

But this is Zayn, so maybe he should.

“Hey,” he responds and he can feel Zayn let out a sigh of relief as his head falls back to Liam’s chest.

They’re quiet for a moment, Zayn closing his eyes and listening to Liam’s heart beat while Liam drags his fingers up and down the planes of Zayn’s back, occasionally tracing invisible patterns into his skin. There are so many things to say but neither of them seems to know which words should be used to make up which sentences and how much is too much.

It’s Zayn who moves first, sitting up and pulling out of Liam who winces slightly due to oversensitivity. Liam watches as Zayn slides off the condom and ties up the end before climbing off of the couch to throw it away. And then he’s picking up his clothes from the ground and sliding on his jeans and his underwear and pulling his shirt over his head and suddenly Zayn is dressed and running his hand through his hair like he isn’t sure of what to do.

“Zayn—”

“Should I call a cab or…”

Liam sits up. His lower back is a bit sore, but it isn’t so bad when he looks up at Zayn who is still beautiful even when he’s sad.

Liam shakes his head. “No, just… just give me a minute, okay?”

When Liam comes back dressed in a fresh t-shirt and jean, he isn’t sure of what to do next. He starts to reach for his keys so he can drive Zayn home, but when he looks back at the boy standing before him it all feels wrong. It feels wrong because this is Zayn and California is too far. It feels wrong because even though Jason knows how to talk in a way Zayn never did, Liam doesn’t always want to listen.

It feels wrong because he loves Jason, but it’s not the same.

“Stay,” Liam says and his voice is quiet; nervous.

Zayn’s eyes flick up to meet Liam’s. “What?”

Liam clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders as his eyes drop to the carpet. “Stay,” he repeats. “Here; With me.”  

“What about Jason? Your plane leaves in the morning,” Zayn reminds him.

Liam looks down at the coffee table, sees the pages he’d printed out with all of his flight information. He thinks about the suitcases in his bedroom and the boxes his parents plan to ship across the country in a few days. Liam thinks about concerts and recording studios and days spent lounging on the beach and waking up to Jason every day and while all of it seems nice and new and a little bit exotic it doesn’t feel right in the same way standing in his living room looking at Zayn with his sex ruffled hair and tired eyes.

Liam sighs. “I… You were right,” he says. “I don’t love him. Not like you.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” Zayn says. “Don’t say it because we had sex and you liked it or because you think you miss me and you aren’t sure.”

Liam takes a few steps forward before placing his hands on either side of Zayn’s waist. He presses their foreheads together and Liam can’t help but to smile because Zayn smells kind of like him. “I’ve always been sure. I don’t look at Jason the way I look at you. When he smiles, my stomach doesn’t knot up the way it does when you do. My heart doesn’t skip a beat when he tells me he loves me and when we fight and he walks out the front door I don’t feel like everything is going to come crashing down.”

“I—”

Liam shakes his head. “If Jason goes to California, I’m not going to feel like I’m losing everything. But if I were to get on that plane and fly halfway across the world I’d feel as though I were leaving everything behind.”

Zayn ducks his head, his face heating up and he’s really just trying not to cry because Liam can’t just say things like that. “I should have known,” Zayn says quietly. “Or… I don’t know. I should have gotten out of my own head and said something instead of throwing everything in your face. I should have trusted that you loved me and that should have been enough.”

“True,” Liam replies. “But I should have trusted you to come back.”

When Zayn looks back up at him, Liam is smiling and he’s feeling hopeful and a little bit scared because even though he knows that this is it for him, Zayn had known all along that they were right; that even though it was hard and they were stubborn and didn’t always see things clearly, there was some kind of force drawing them together.

But then Zayn is laughing, his head falling to Liam’s shoulder as he reaches out to pull him a little closer. “Yeah,” he says, his lips brushing the fabric of Liam’s t-shirt. “You should have.”

Liam doesn’t bother with saying anything back because there isn’t really much too say. Sure, there are things to talk about like Jason and the boxes packed up in Liam’s room. And he’s probably going to have to talk to his parents about the lease on his apartment because he isn’t sure if they canceled it or not but, in that very moment, Liam figures all of that can wait.

All of that comes second to what was happening then and there. For the first time in a long time Liam feels like he can breathe. He feels like he can open his eyes and see the world for what it is again. It’s as though he’s been lost for the past few months and he’s finally found his way again.

And Liam thinks that’s how it is with them.  Zayn can’t always find the words and Liam doesn’t always understand. They get lost. And while sometimes take longer than others, they always find their way back. That’s how it’s always been.

And that’s how it will always be. 

**Author's Note:**

> second half will be posted soon :)


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